Through Blackest Night
by BelovedSlayer
Summary: She returns to the mansion, and unknowingly, a surprise return awaits. One-shot.


Title: Through Blackest Night

TV Show: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Author: Beloved Slayer

Rating: T

Summary: She returns to the mansion, and unknowingly, a surprise return awaits. One-shot.

Author's Notes: A 'missing scene' one-shot taking place during Angel's return in Anne, though it's altered. As always, none of the characters belong to me. It's been months since I last posted a story, but hopefully that will change. Enjoy.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

With those sounds, her heart accelerates against her chest, every pulse ringing against her ears.

She pauses momentarily before taking a step towards the hulking mansion. It was shrouded in darkness, a faint mist cocooning the gardens and surrounding area.

Another thump emerged.

No signs of life permeated within the mansion's walls. Month after month, it remained dead.

A shiver crept up her arms. The night tells her that she should had brought more appropriate clothing. She hadn't listen, for her attention then had turned to caressing the claddagh ring, her thoughts merely of him and nothing more.

An arousing scent of jasmine welcomes her as she strolls up the concrete path, the crackle of leaves underneath the heels of her boots, joining in the cacophony of crickets.

An abrupt stop.

A lump swells in her throat, and she swallows, taking the moment to drink in the view. She's on the verge of tears, but finds only one drop marring her vision.

Attempting to bring forth a semblance of composure, her left hand fails and clenches itself into a tiny fist. Manicured nails dig deeply into her palm, forming crescents.

"_I love you." _

Her words ripple across her mind. It taunts her, like relentless claws seeping into warm flesh, taking hold.

Her expression pained, she decides that she doesn't want to be there.

She retraces her steps, her back protruding against the descending trail. Branches rustled and stretched, almost as if they were reaching for her, pleading with her to not leave them behind.

"_I love you." _His words came next while her foot suspends itself in midair.

She forces herself to take another one down. Then a flash blossoms. A memory from not long ago.

Deep brown eyes furrowed with desperation as he cries her name for one last time. Whirls of light enveloped his body, dragging him into the mouth of Acathla. His arm, above the plunged sword, reached for her.

End of memory. She reels and gasps, tilting, almost tumbling along the path, but manages to hold on.

"Angel," she sobs, her body in continuous spasms.

_I can't do this. I don't know if I can. _

A mental voice interrupts. _You must. Why continue to be haunted? _

She wanted to protest, but her lips disobeyed, thinning itself into a hard line.

It felt as if eternity had passed until she spun upward, inhaling air into her mouth to qualm her anxiety.

Breath.

Just breathe.

Minutes passed by and she suddenly finds herself in the mansion's garden entrance.

Everything remained as it had been before. Untouched. Every corner filled to the brim with thickening cobwebs. An owl could be heard unseen among the overgrown pansies and shrubs.

"Creepy," she murmured to herself.

_Keep going. _ The same mental voice pressed.

She reaches for the cool brass knob, then held still.

_Open it. _

She obeys, taking cautious steps into the foyer of the living room.

Immediate chills sprawled throughout her skin, and a dank scent omitted in the air. It reeked of cold-heart emptiness. But her mind paid attention only towards the center. Another spasm struck as she strode forward, her hand against her mouth. More tears flowed, and her heart inadvertently reverted itself to the familiar sensations of a heart torn into two.

_Stay. _

She was too weary to question the demand.

Eyes studying the fireplace, she produces the claddagh ring from the innards of her pocket. It glistens under a pale moonbeam infiltrating from above the open portion of the ceiling.

_He is here. _

"Where?"

_Closer than you think. I can hear the growls. _

Alarm bells sprung, back and neck both tensing. She was no longer alone.

And she was defenseless.

"Angel?" she queried, surpassing her way from the unlit fireplace.

Another growl of animalistic fury echoed past the mansion. "Angel? Can you hear me?" She picks up a spare poker.

_Careful. His eyes are set on you. _

A dark blur rushes past her, startling her. A mere second and a masculine weight settles onto her body, his cool breath caressing across her damp skin. Terror and awe filled her. His chestnut eyes captivated her beyond capacity. She fought the urge to touch him, but remained motionless underneath him.

His lips pulled back, fangs elongating past his pale skin into needle points. Eyes widened, she musters her strength to push him away as he flees across the room. She rises to her feet, never shifting her gaze from him.

_He is not himself, it seems. Take precaution. _

She places a distance between them, hands searching for the poker. He sneers and takes a step forward. The pain of torture could be seen within the depths of his eyes. Matted hair, dried streaks of blood, and healing cuts adorned his half-naked body.

His arms rattled with iron wrought cackles.

"Stay where you are!" she snarled, hardening her heart at the sight of him. It hurt more than she could bear.

But reasoning was not possible for him.

He does not listen, and prowls further. She was not a Slayer, a hunter, but rather a prey in his eyes. It didn't deter her. Or so she believed. She finds herself suddenly against the wall, nowhere to go. "Stay away," she cries. She knew she shouldn't had listened. Knew she had to stay away. She silently curses herself. The air between them vanishes, and all that was left was them.

Faintly, she could hear the growl emitting from his body. She steadies herself to defend if necessary. But in the midst, surprise overtakes her as he buries his face into hers, inhaling her as nostrils tickled against her cheek.

She shivers, savoring him against her will.

He studies every inch of her sculpted face, her eyes, the firm mouth that he had constantly kissed.

It was he who separates himself from her. But not for long.

She finds herself in the embrace of his arms, too stunned to absorb everything. But soon, his lips find hers, and all was lost.

She finally admits the words that she had for so long wanted to say.

"I'm sorry."


End file.
